Consequence of Being Trapped
by Angel LeeAnn
Summary: Marguerite and Roxton shared a secret while trapped in the cave.  Now their secret has a consequence.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Consequence of Being Trapped

Author: Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Marguerite, while mysteriously ill, finds herself in a perilous situation.

Disclaimer: These wonderful characters – sadly – don't belong to me. However, they are in the good hands of 'The Over Hill Gang' and were originally created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

NOTE: I wrote part of this story under the name "Unexpected Danger" back in 2003. However, after watching "Trapped" the other night, I decided to repost the story, but edited it to follow that story line (without Finn). So, if some of this sounds familiar, that's because the first half of this story is mostly from the original one I wrote (but minus the whole Sorcerer Klor storyline.)

Chapter One

Sickness Strikes

Twittering on the edge of her mattress, her stomach churned harshly and bile rose up her throat, but she swallowed the acidic fluid down, determined to not throw up. Waiting till she felt secure enough, Marguerite finally climbed to her weak feet. She was dizzy and her head split in two, but she managed to stagger out of her room and make her way cautiously to the kitchen table. Flopping down on a chair, she was frustrated to find herself out of breath. She had hoped that her nap would chase the flu bug away, but she was feeling worse.

Professor George Challenger glanced up from his soup and frowned at the dark haired heiress, his brows creasing with concern. "Are you all right, Marguerite? You look pale." He reached across the tabletop and placed his hand over her forehead. "No sign of a fever, but that doesn't mean you aren't coming down with something."

Marguerite Krux swatted his pestering hand away and groaned. "I feel wretched." She propped her head up with the palm of her hand. A couple weeks ago, she had felt the onslaught of the flu begin, but it was bearable. Today she felt ready to jump off a cliff. "Where are the others?"

The older man beamed, excitement glittering in his eyes. "I sent them out to gather an extraordinary specimen for me. I believe it may be the equivalent of a headache reducer. After some experiments, maybe it'll be good enough to use for your illness. I saw it on one of our scooting excursions, but didn't have a container to bring it back with."

Marguerite leapt from her chair, startling her companion, and raced to the balcony where she thrust her head over the railing. The sour, burning vomit erupted from her mouth and splattered on the branches below before dripping in clumps to the forest floor. After heaving up every last piece of breakfast, she crumbled to the ground, pressing her cheek against a post.

Challenger was kneeling beside her, gently placing his hand on her quivering shoulder. "My God, Marguerite, are you all right?" He carefully helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her slim waist. "Let's get you to your room, young lady." He guided her back to her bed.

After settling her in, he quietly rummaged through the cabinets for herbs. He didn't even glance up when he heard the others come off the elevator, returning from their journey. "Marguerite's very ill. I suggest we ask the Zanga for a remedy as soon as possible."

"What's wrong with her," Roxton demanded in a soft voice.

Challenger smashed some purple seeds. "She left a lovely gift for the animals over the railing. She must've emptied everything from her stomach." He sprinkled the powder into the bowl and handed it to Roxton. "I want you to give her this. Make sure she eats every drop."

Roxton accepted the bowl and hastily wandered into Marguerite's room. He could hear Challenger giving Veronica and Malone orders to retrieve a medicine man. What he wasn't prepared for was the pale, trembling, and sweaty woman lying helplessly on the bed. She peered up at him through heavy, glazed eyes and grimaced. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to eat that."

Roxton chuckled. "Sorry, Marguerite, but it's the doctor's orders." He perched him self delicately on the edge of the bed. He eyed her oddly. "You look dreadful, Marguerite." He caressed her cool face with the palm of his hand. "Mm, no fever. You didn't eat any unfamiliar berries, did you? This could be food poisoning."

"I'm not stupid, Roxton." She snatched the bowl from him roughly. "I take that back. I've done a couple stupid things while here, but I plan on preventing such foolishness in the future. Believe it or not, I learn from my mistakes." Her outburst wore her out and she leaned back into her pillow. In a small voice she requested, "Please, leave me alone. You're making me feel worse."

Roxton clenched his teeth and nearly stormed from the room. _She's always having mood swings. Three years of her constant bitchiness is enough. What the hell does she want from us…from me? _Yet, even as he thought it, he knew he would continue putting up with her mood swings if it meant keeping her safely with him. After the time they shared in the cave, when they finally confessed their love, and Marguerite had lowered her walls, Roxton knew he was eternally bonded to the woman of fire and steel. Even, though, once they were home, she had clammed back up, refusing his desire ... and, more painfully, his love.

Part Two

By mid-morning, Veronica Layton snuck into her companion's room with a dish of steamy herbal soup to shockingly find the heiress propped up reading a book. The jungle girl handed the meal over. "You're looking much better, Marguerite. That remedy of Challenger's did wonders. Clarias was going to come today, but do you still need her?"

Clarias was a medicine woman from the Zanga tribe. She had been tending to a mother in labor last night, but promised to drop in this afternoon to check on Marguerite. By the color and stamina on Marguerite's face, Veronica assumed that Clarias would be making a wasteful trip.

Marguerite wrinkled her nose at the smelly soup. "No, I'm feeling wonderful this morning. I must have eaten something that didn't settle yesterday." She handed the bowl back to Veronica. "I suppose I ought to get up now. If I don't, Challenger will be in here shoving that horrid medicine down my throat." She crawled out of bed, slipping on her lavender blouse. "Are the men here?"

"Malone and Challenger went for a walk around the perimeter. Roxton is outside chopping wood for Challenger's next experiment." Veronica brushed back a strand of golden hair. "He's a brilliant man, but half the time I don't understand what he's rambling on about." Veronica gave her a shrug. "I think I'm going to go find us dinner. I can't stand another night of herbal soup." She paused a moment before exiting the bedroom to gather her hunting knife.

Marguerite pulled on her boots then, walked out and onto the elevator. She swept her hair back and wrinkled her nose. Her hair felt dirty. _I really should go take a bath_, she thought. At the bottom, she walked off the elevator and spotted Roxton hacking away at firewood. _Should I tell him? No, I won't be gone long_.

Marguerite crept around him and went to take her bath.

Part Three

Nearly finished, she ducked her head under one more time, marveling in the refreshing feeling of being clean. Sighing, she began wading towards shore, but a sharp pain shot through her stomach and she struggled to stay above water. The pain turned agonizing, tearing through her belly in excruciating waves of hot needle pricks. Holding her side, she used her other arm to propel herself closer to the edge, tears stinging her eyes. Her body impulsively bent over, doubling over in the pain. Frightened, she screamed for all she was worth.

Part Three

Roxton raised the ax, but hesitated at the sound of a shrill cry. In a split second, he was racing towards the sound, panic rising. Clearing the tree line, he saw Marguerite struggling to crawl herself out of the water hole grasping her stomach. She was naked and sobbing. In an instant, he was at her side, yanking her the rest of the way out of water. He reached over and dragged her skirt over her body. It wasn't much coverage, but at least it offered her some protection.

He cradled her to him, checking her over for signs of a wound, wondering where the blood was coming from that she didn't seem to realize was there. "Marguerite, Marguerite," he cupped her tear-streaked face. "What's wrong, Marguerite? What's happened?"

"My…st-stomach!" She howled in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. "Help me, Roxton! Make…make it stop!"

Roxton gathered her in his arms and rushed her to the tree house.

Part Four

Roxton paced the length of the tree house, his heavy boots pounding and his hand constantly sweeping through his chestnut hair. He stopped every so often in front of Marguerite's room, his ears twitching, straining to hear what was going on inside before continuing his long strides. He was worried as hell and anxious for Challenger and Clarias to give him some reassuring word.

Veronica and Malone stood reasonably close conversing. Occasionally one would bring her or his attention to the distraught hunter, but could find no consolation.

Finally, Challenger stepped out of her room, his face grave. He stared pointedly at Roxton before moving towards the pot boiling with water. "She's going to be fine." He gathered up the pot with a towel and started back towards Marguerite's room. "She'll be weak for the next couple of days, but she should pull through with perfection." With that, he disappeared into the bedroom.

"Challenger," Roxton called after him. He was thankful to hear that Marguerite would be fine, but now he wanted answers. What had happened? Was she attacked? Wish she bit by something in the water? Roxton swore that if anyone had hurt her he would kill him with his bare hands…a very slow death.

Part Five

Marguerite's strength finally returned over the course of the next few days. Challenger had warned the others off from prying, saying that Marguerite wasn't up to it. So, she was treated with curious eyes from the others, but didn't allow it to bother her. It was her life, her health, and if she wanted it to be confidential then it was her right to do so.

She trudged off the elevator, her back aching and her breasts sore. She didn't keep a regular monthly cycle anymore for stress and poor diet prevented her body from doing so. Yet, on a rare occasion, it crept up on her. She wasn't actually bleeding, yet, but she was certainly feeling the onslaught of PMS. Her mood bitter, she stomped over to where Roxton was patrolling the fence and snapped, "Can't you follow one simple instruction you worthless prick? I asked you to bring me back fruit!"

Roxton, feeling a bit defensively, eyed her coolly. "I must say I don't think you need any more food." He indicated her stomach. "It looks to me that you're starting to fill out nicely." He didn't really mean it, her blouse was a little snug, but she was still very slender. Yet, he'd learned over the years that the thing women feared most was losing their figure and beauty.

Her eyes went wide and he was sure she was going to tear him apart. "You bastard," she seethed before whipping around and racing back towards the tree house.

He followed her into the elevator. "Marguerite, I'm sorry." He glanced nervously around the cramped space. "I…I just…you're just so moody these days." He bit his lip, fearing he said the wrong thing.

Marguerite sniffled, then turned and buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Roxton, please forgive me. I should have told you."

They had reached the top, but didn't get out. Instead, he ran a hand through her hair, kissing her temple. "Tell me what, Marguerite?"

"Roxton!" Veronica yelled from somewhere in the tree house. "A T-rex! Come quickly!"

Roxton peered down at Marguerite. "We'll finish this later." He rushed off, his rifle grasped firmly in his hands.


	2. The Secret

Chapter Two

Secret Revealed

They sat out on the balcony listening to the chirping of the crickets. Marguerite sipped at her coffee, avoiding the matter at hand. This was going to be one of the hardest things she'd ever have to do. Bracing herself, she began in a low whisper: "You have no right to be angry with me until you've been in my situation." She risked a glance his way, but returned her attention to the forest. "I didn't even know what was happening to me. I never even considered the possibility that I could beanywayapparently, according to Clarias, I had amiscarriage."

Roxton nearly choked on his breath of air, his eyes wide with shock. "What?" he gasped. "You werepregnant? Marguerite, why didnt you tell me!"

Marguerite barked a sarcastic laugh. "What does it matter!" She was instantly on her feet, rage seeping off of her. "I regretted sleeping with you to begin with, but then this had to happen to make it all worse! And I blame you," she hissed at him. "You've worked so hard over the years to seduce me and you waited until the moment I was vulnerable to make your ultimate strike! I must have been stark-raving mad to sleep with you!"

"I beg your pardon, Marguerite, but no one made you do anything!" He leapt to his feet. "You slept with me on your own account. Don't you dare go placing all the blame on me! Yet, that's so typical of you, isn't it? You're such a brat in that regard. Always handing off the blame to everyone else and not able to admit that you're nothing but a manipul-!"

His words were cut off by the sting of her slap. "How dare you! Excuse me, _Lord_ Roxton, but I didn't grow up with your luxuries! I grew up having to fend for myself! I had to learn to manipulate people in order to survive! How do you think it was for me not having any family or true friends! I had toto" she gripped her stomach, her color draining from her face.

"Marguerite?" Roxton reached for her, but she brushed him off with an icy glare. "Marguerite, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she spat. "Just leave me the hell alone." She staggered into her room, still clenching her stomach. _Damn these cramps!_

Over the course of the next month, Marguerite began to notice subtle changes to her body. She was gradually gaining weight, her feet started swelling, and she was ravenous. Another month trickled bythen she felt it: a soft flutter in her abdomen and she knew then her dilemma. When she had miscarried, what they did not know was that she had been carrying twins. The thought of going full-term and into labor out here on the plateau frightened her so much she withdrew into herself.

The other four members noticed her changes and her sudden silent persona. Challenger knew, while the others suspected, the problem. During dinner one evening, Marguerite realized her condition would soon be impossible to hide and decided to tell the truth. She cleared her throat. She began quietly, staring down at her plate. "Four months agoRoxton and I," she glanced his way, "Two months ago, I had a miscarriage, butI'm still pregnant. And I'mI" tears prickled her eyes.

Veronica rose from her seat and slipped her arms around her friend. Over the three years, she had come to view the older woman as a sister even though Marguerite was hard to love at times. "We'll manage, Marguerite," she whispered. "I'll personally take care of you. And we'll have Clarias deliver your baby. You'll be in good hands. You'll never have to survive alone."

Marguerite clenched her jaw to keep from weeping. Challenger joined the two women, stroking Marguerite's arm soothingly. "Veronica's right, my dear. We'll take care of you. Try not to worry too much, Marguerite."

Malone nodded his agreement. "You'll be our first priority, Marguerite."

Roxton slowly came to his feet, hesitantly coming to stand beside her. "Marguerite," he whispered. "Let me carry some of the burden. I'll do whatever it takes to make you comfortable." He was nervous, his hands itching to touch her. "This is as much as my doing as yours and I'm willing to do whatever you need."

Roxton gently brushed the others away, taking Marguerite into his arms. "We'll get through this. I promise I won't let anything harm you. I'll never leave your side. I want you to promise me that you'll come to me if you ever need _anything_."

"I promise."

Roxton was a silent nervous wreck. His fragile stonewall was rapidly crumbling and he was wearing himself out trying to keep the pieces together. The only other time he'd felt so out of control of the spiraling universe was when he had accidentally killed his brother, William. Yet, he forced a sense of calm around everyone else. Marguerite needed their care and attention more than he and he didn't want to rob her of that.

Thinking of Marguerite, he winced and regretfully shut his eyes. How could he have placed her in such a dangerous situation? He should have known that the risks far outweighed his burning desire. Having a baby on the plateau could be suicide for a foreigner like Marguerite. Granted, she was as tough as nails, but pregnancy tended to steal one's strength both physically and mentally.

He heard her shuffle into the room; her enlarged belly making it difficult for her to maneuver. She was now six months along and her figure was still slender except for the whale growing inside her: making her oddly proportioned and wobbly. He leapt to his feet to offer her a hand, but she shooed him away. "You've done quite enough already, Roxton."

He held back the biting remark that rolled around on his tongue. Challenger told him to expect extreme degrees in mood. That she would lash out just for the sake of doing so: her pregnancy playing with her hormones and emotions like a game. So, instead, he played it as sweetly as he could. "How are you feeling this morning, Marguerite? Would you like some breakfast?"

"I'd feel better if this parasite would just sit still." She lowered herself delicately onto the chair that Roxton had just evacuated. "What's for breakfast? Oh, wait, let me guess: soup!" She scowled at the word, but then her expression softened and she patted her stomach. "Ok," she spoke softly (she was not one for _cooing_). "I'll feed you. Stop whining." She smiled warmly up at the hunter. "Roxton, be a darling and fix your child some meat."

He mocked a bow, smiling. That was the first time Marguerite had referred to the baby as his. "I'm at your humble service, madam. And what would the child prefer? The dark, tough T-rex blanketed in herbs or the tender raptor sprinkled withwellherbs?"

She rolled her eyes, a smile dancing in her brown depths, but never touching her lips. "Anything dark and medium rare."

While Roxton set forth preparing her meal; Marguerite noticed the vase of wildflowers for the first time. The bouquet of reds and blues were dusted through and through with lavender lilacs. Lilacs. They were her favorite. She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she gazed up at the tall, dark man cooking her meal. "Thank you, John."

When he glanced her way, she indicated the flowers and he smiled at her. "You're welcome, Marguerite." Maybe things wouldn't be as dire as he had feared.

End Chapter Two


	3. It is Time

CHAPTER 3

It was a pleasant afternoon and Marguerite was tired of being stashed in the tree house. She was able to convince Veronica into taking a leisurely stroll to the river where she could take a soothing bath instead of the shower she'd been having since her condition became public. Roxton was irate with the idea, grumbling about how unprotected a seven-month pregnant woman was in the wild. In truth, he wanted to go along, but Marguerite was adamant about him staying away saying, "You've already got your look." Yet, in all honesty, she was humiliated with how her body had changed and was embarrassed by the thought of Roxton seeing her naked.

Marguerite floated along in the river, the cool water rejuvenating her mood. Veronica sat on the edge of the bank, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of danger. Nothing was going to happen to Marguerite or the baby on her watch. "Are you almost finished? If we're much longer Roxton will send out a search party."

"Oh he can bite himself." She wrung her hair out and pulled it up into a bun. "He's never been pregnant before. Being in the water makes my body feel lighter. It's relaxing and" she paused, her pulse quickening and she snapped her head around. "Did you hear something?"

Veronica listened intently. "No. Why? What did you hear?"

"Nothing, I guess." Marguerite gestured for Veronica to look away so she could climb out and dress. "I'm just overcautious. Being pregnant makes me jump at every noise." She sighed, slipping on her skirt. "I hate all this hormonal bother. I can't wait to be plain me again."

Veronica chuckled. "I don't know, Marguerite. Maybe the change will be permanent. Maybe it'll be for the best."

PART TWO

It was mid-afternoon and the heiress sat, plump as a pear, pushing the contents of her plate around in circles. Lately she had been experiencing cramps; and the urgent need to pee every five minutes was pissing the dark haired beauty off. She snapped at anyone who looked her way and refused to accept anything someone offered. Veronica eventually went for a much-needed walk. Challenger disappeared into his lab. This left Malone and Roxton at the mercy of Marguerite.

Malone was positioned at the opposite end of Marguerite, furiously scribbling down his every thought. His tactic was: avoid her and she would avoid him. "Malone, would you quit that," she snapped. Apparently his technique failed. "You're driving me crazy!" She pushed her plate away, her face scrunched in disgust. "This is driving me crazy!" She hoisted herself up and staggered out onto the balcony. "No wonder I never had the desire to have children," she grumbled. "I hate being pregnant."

Malone glanced at Roxton who nodded and approached Marguerite. "But you're going to make a wonderful mother, Marguerite. You're strong, capable, and stubborn." He rubbed her arm. "You're also brave andbeautiful."

"What does that have to do with anything?" She barked before slowly facing him. "Youyou still think I'mbeautifuleven though I'm as big as a T-rex?"

"Sure. You can be as big as a T-rex and beautiful at the same time."

She glared at him. "Jerk."

"What? What did I say?"

From the table, Malone chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

PART THREE

Roxton was leaning back in a kitchen chair cleaning his weapons when he glanced up in time to see Marguerite waddling off the elevator. He titled his head slightly, his eyebrows knitting together in thought. _She really is radiant_, he pondered somberly. He'd seen a number of pregnant women in his days, but they had always appeared pudgy, withered, sickly, and miserable. Yet, his precious Marguerite, though plump, was a stunning sight to behold. "Good afternoon, Marguerite. Did you have a pleasantuh, whatever it is you did?"

She smiled her naturally sly smile. "I was chatting with Veronica and Malone; and, yes, it was very pleasant. In fact," she eyed him shrewdly, "it was about a certain Lord John Roxton." She had managed to shuffle her body over to where he was and lowered herself onto the chair beside his.

He grinned boyishly in response. "All good things I hope. You know it isn't polite to talk about people behind their back."

"If you must know, we decided we are going to poison your drink; and after you slip unconscious we'll slaughter you." She ran her fingertips along the rifle closest to her, her amusement melting away. "Do you ever think about that night?" she asked in silent seriousness, her eyes searching out his.

Roxton looked away, clearing his throat that had suddenly grown tight and dry. He knew damn well knew what night she was referring to. How could he have forgotten how creamy her skin felt, the silk strands of her hair, or how she had moaned in pleasure? "Why do you ask, Marguerite?"

"I remember," she whispered. Her movements ceased and her eyes glazed over from the memory.

Roxton opened his mouth, but was silence by Veronica entering the room.

PART FOUR

Marguerite rolled over in bed, wincing as her stomach pressed harshly into the mattress. Groaning, she rolled again onto her back and glared at the ceiling. She was tired of being pregnant and the desire to yank the baby out was maddening. _Just two more months_, she coaxed herself. _Two more months and I'll be wishing _**not** _to have the baby._

Marguerite was a strong, independent woman who had faced death casually many times. Yet, giving birth was something she feared more than anything, especially out here in the jungles of South America. Anything could go wrong and there was no preventing it.

Now laced with apprehension, she stroked her stomach protectively. "Don't worry, little one. I'll try my best to bring you safely and comfortably into the world."

"And as will I," stated Roxton's husky voice from the doorway. He was carrying a tray piled high with various foods. He lifted it up. "I thought maybe you would be hungryor at least junior here would be," he commented as he strolled cheerfully into the room.

"Junior? God, I hope not." She sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I have enough trouble keeping track of _one_ Lord John Roxton. I don't need to strain myself fretting over _two_." Her teasing smile dissolved as she stared unseeingly at the tray he placed before her. "I pray for a boy. It would be easier raising a son here."

"I'm not chauvinistic, but that I must agree with." He offered her a handful of grapes. "Here, try some grapes. I plucked them myself."

His tactic worked for she burst out laughing. "I remember the first time you said that. It was as idiotic then as it is now." Still giggling, she began plopping the fruit into her mouth. "What do you think of Elizabeth if it is a girl? No wait, people would be tempted to call her Beth. Forget it. How about Vivian? No, they would call her Viv. How about Clara? NoKarlie? Karlie Veronica Roxton? No, it isn't smooth enough."

"You're not giving the baby your last name?"

"Of course not, John."

He beamed with pride and acceptance. "Fine by me. Now, you keep rambling off girl names, but what if it is a boy?"

"I already have a name picked out." She licked her lips nervously. "You may not like it, but I find it fitting."

"Lord Junior?" he teased.

She sighed. "No."

"Rex?"

"No."

"Plateau?"

"Be serious, John. I want to name the baby"

"Tarzan."

"No, Arthur George Malone Roxton. Ned just didn't flow no matter what I did, so I went with Malone."

Roxton nodded his approval. Very fitting.

PART FIVE

She tapped her fingers randomly against the railing as she sat on the bench waiting forsomething. She was impatient but wasn't sure what it was she was eager to happen. What she did know was that the temperature couldn't possibly steep any higher without breaking her inner thermometer. She was parading around in her undergarments and a sheet securely wrapped around her whale-sized body. Roxton had cautiously placed a bowl of ice cubes beside her, but they had melted hours ago and the process of making more took longer than she was willing to wait. Instead, she had soaked her sheet in the bowl of melted ice and draped it over herself.

Sighing, she shifted as the weight of the eighth-month-old unborn baby pressed down on her bladder. For the past few weeks, the baby had been very active, but two days ago the child had grown still. Marguerite was beginning to panic even as Clarias, who visited once a week, explained to her that it wasn't rare for a baby to stop moving near the due date. It usually meant the baby had gotten into position for birth. _Well_, Marguerite had wondered _if the baby's in position then why isn't he or she pushing to get out?_

Veronica was at the table playing a game involving stones and leafs with Malone. Roxton had reluctantly gone out with Challenger earlier. The professor had used the rouse of wanting to gather herbs that only grew around the raptors' hunting grounds. In fact, Challenger had wanted to have a discussion with Roxton to make sure the younger man was indeed ready for the responsibility that was quickly approaching.

Marguerite heard Malone slap his stones on the table and Veronica yelp in glee. Marguerite smiled resignedly and mused over the past few months. Marguerite, ever growing larger, wasn't able to stay in her tight clothing for long. Veronica had taken it as her own mission to insure that Marguerite always had fitting clothes. She had sewn three separate maternity dresses, two pants, and two shirts for Marguerite to wear. The heiress would always be grateful for the kind act.

Marguerite hissed as a sharp pain blossomed in her stomach. A swift kick from the baby and Marguerite was gripping the railing. She had felt this before. Clarias had told her it was false contractions that would most likely happen a few more times until the real thing. Yet, nevertheless, every time it made Marguerite nervous.

Veronica glanced over from the game. "You ok, Marguerite?"

"Yeah, the baby's begun moving again. Took me by sur," she clenched her teeth. "Ahrg, it thinks my stomach is a trampoline." She rubbed her stomach soothingly. "Settle down." In response, the baby kicked again harder. "Come now, give your mother a break."

"So, have you decided on a name yet?" Malone questioned.

"Yes. We've got both a girl's name and a boy's name picked out."

Malone smiled warmly, abandoning the game to join Marguerite on the bench. He was losing anyway. "Well, what are they?"

"Well," she looked back and forth between her two friends. In the four years they had lived together in the tree house, they had truly become a family. "Lillian Veronica Roxton or Arthur George Malone Roxton. All after people very dear to me."

"Oh, Marguerite." Veronica rubbed her arm. "That's so sweet; and we are so honored."

"Why Malone," Malone asked.

"Sorry, Ned, but your first name just wasn't working," Marguerite teased. Then she gasped, gripping her stomach. Another, more constructing pain followed. Wetness seeped from between her legs and her eyes widened in fear.

Malone leapt from the bench, uncertainty overriding his desire to take charge. Veronica, more confused by the birthing process than either of them, ran to get towels screaming, "Ned! Boil some water!"

Malone jerked then hurriedly went to obey the order. "It's going to be ok, Marguerite," he called over his shoulder as he poured water from a bucket into the pot over the fireplace. "I heard that it takes time. Some women go in and have to wait hours before the baby is born. When the others get back, we'll send someone to get Clarias."

"Shut up, Ned! This baby isn't going to wait for Clarias!" She moaned and swung her feet up onto the bench. "God, I don't want to have my baby like this. Oh, please, don't come out yet. Please wait for Challenger and Roxton." She screamed as a wave of rippling pain exploded. "Damn it to bloody hell why can't you be patient!"

"It is _your_ baby, Marguerite," Veronica stated, placing the towels all around the lower section of her body. "You're not very patient either." She sighed, softening even more. "Don't worry, Marguerite. We'll take care of you." She glanced over at Ned. "Go get water from the spring. We'll use it to cool her down."

Tears leaked from Marguerite's eyes and she clasped one of Veronica's hands in her own. "Thank you, Veronica." She squeezed her friend's hand as she felt another contraction take over. When it subsided, she gazed pleadingly into the other woman's eyes. "I want you to make me a promise. Ifif I don't make itI know Roxton will be a loving father and a good provider, but the baby will need a mother figure, especially if it is a girl."

"Don't say stuff like"

"Promise me, Veronica," she said fiercely. "Promise me or I can't do this."

"I promise," Veronica whispered.

Marguerite screamed.

END CHAPTER THREE


End file.
